The unoriginally titled Johnlock Drabbles
by MyDearDoctorWatson
Summary: Johnlock fluff/drabbles unlinked to eachother, rated T to be safe, just because Johnlock is adorable
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, this is going to be a collection of Johnlock drabbles, they might be linked, might not be, not sure yet! but i hope you enjoy!**

Early morning light was streaming through a gap in the curtains, a warm spot of sunlight centring itself on John's right cheek. His facial muscles twitched, coming alive, his Brain firing up as he surfaced to consciousness. Automatically he raised one of his hands to protect the side of his face currently being assaulted by sunlight, but found he was met with a resistance of some sort.

 _'What the hell?'_

John tentatively cracked his eyes open, shutting them almost immediately once again when met with the bright sunlight. Luckily after a few moments he was able to blink them open, and he could finally assess the scene.

His arm was, apparently, unable to reach his face, because a certain consulting detective was holding onto it with his large, bony hands. Well, John assumed it was Sherlock, as all he could see was the top of a mop of brown curls, thrown haphazardly all over the place, and the tip of a nose buried into his bare chest. Focussing more closely on what his own body was doing, he found that the arm not trapped by Sherlock was around Sherlock's t-shirt covered back, and that his legs were trapped by Sherlock's own, which were curled up to make up for their height difference.

John smiled to himself, remembering: _'were in a relationship now'_. It was strange to think that self-proclaimed sociopath, although John could see right through that facade, Sherlock Holmes would actually be interested in a relationship, and John felt extremely blessed that he had been chosen. Well, it had been a joint decision, obviously, one he was extremely glad they had both made. Together.

John sighed, nestling his face into Sherlock's curls and placing a kiss into them. From below he heard a groan, and Sherlock shifted slightly in his arms, wriggling against John's chest.

John chuckled, "Morning."

Sherlock breathed in deeply, eyelashes fluttering and tickling the hairs on John's chest. "Hmmph."

John chuckled again, rubbing circles into Sherlock's back through his think t-shirt. "You comfy there?" he asked.

"Hmmm." A sound of affirmation was all he got back, and so he tightened his hold on Sherlock.

John floated along on a cloud of happiness for a few moments before realising he should check the time as he had an actual job to go to, and could not afford to laze around all day, unlike _some_ people- as nice as this was. Moving as little as he could, John titled his head to the side, eyes catching the ray of sunlight again and causing him to wince, so that he could peer at the digital clock placed on the bedside table.

 _7:33_

John really should be getting up now: making tea, having a shower, breakfast, forcing Sherlock to eat something...it was a pity he had to move, their cocoon of warmth was so comfortable.

"Sherlock," he muttered, "I've got to get up, i have a job to get to."

Sherlock groaned, his hold on John's arm becoming tighter. "No."

John sighed, hating himself for it but forcing himself to be practical. "Lounging around all day won't pay the bills."

Sherlock groaned once again, legs locking John's more securely in place, before nestling his head further into John's chest, giving John a glimpse of two closed eyes, eyelashes fanning out, soft and contrasting to the sharp lines of his cheekbones.  
"No. C'll in sick." He muttered.

John sighed, exasperated. "I can't phone in sick when I'm not actually sick, Sherlock."

"Yes you can."

"No." ' _Dammit, John, be resolute, even if you don't want to be!'_

A muffled groan and Sherlock once again snuggled further into John's embrace. "Please."

John scowled: Sherlock knew John could not resist if he said the P word. And dammit he couldn't have even tried to if he wanted to. Being here, with Sherlock, snuggled to his chest, in the comfortable nest of their bed, was a much better deal than the cold and sanitary surgery.

"Well, I suppose one day wouldn't be too..."

"Good." Sherlock mumbled, yawning against John's chest and causing a warm patch to rise up on his skin. "And then perhaps tomorrow too..."

John chuckled, holding Sherlock more securely in his arms. "Perhaps..."

 **I hope you enjoyed, more of this sort of thing to follow!**

 **Reviews are amazing ;)**

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's another chapter for you, unlinked to the first but established Johnlock nonetheless**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

A cold breeze chased Sherlock and John through the front door of 221B and into the hallway, turning their noses red and raising goosebumps on their skin. John turned to Sherlock as they removed their coats and gloves, smiling fondly at the detective. They had just completed a case that had taken five days, five days in which Sherlock had not slept and had barely eaten, and now the detective was showing the negligence he had put his body through, with heavy bags under bloodshot eyes. Sherlock was also having a hard time removing his gloves, the task seeming to take him a lot of concentration.

"Here, let me." John ordered, taking Sherlock's hands into his own and swiftly removing his leather gloves. Sherlock nodded his thanks and took off up the stairs to their flat, not as fast as he usually would and grabbing onto the bannister. John sighed and followed his partner.

* * *

Upon entering the lounge John was greeted to the sight of Sherlock sprawled out on the sofa, belly down, and his head buried into the union jack cushion.

"Sherlock," he chuckled, "you can't sleep yet, you need to eat something first."

"Not hungry." Came the muffled replied.

"Yes you are." John ordered. "Now, what d'you want? Chinese or curry?"

"Hmph," Sherlock groaned, "curry."

"Alright, curry it is."

The curry was promptly ordered and John made tea for both of them while they waited. Placing both cups on the coffee table he then nudged Sherlock's shoulder.

"Come on, get into your pyjamas, it'll be much comfier."

Once again Sherlock groaned, but he did allow John to drag him off the sofa and into their bedroom. John sniggered upon seeing that Sherlock's hair was flattened on one side of his head and sticking straight up on the other side. He reached out a hand to smooth it back into place and Sherlock nuzzled into his palm, acting like a needy kitten.

"John…" Sherlock sighed, "I'm tired…"

John smiled sympathetically. He too was tired, but not as tired as Sherlock, who had gotten no rest at all, whereas John had at least got some.

"I know…" John brought his other hand up to caress Sherlock's cheek, and the detective leaned forward, closing his eyes. "Just get your pyjamas on, we'll have some food and then you can sleep, okay? How's that?"

Sherlock sucked in a deep breath, blinking heavy-lidded eyes open. "Fine."

Slowly and listlessly the two of them changed into their pyjamas, John helping Sherlock on with his t-shirt. The two of them also took this opportunity for a lazy kissing session, John pulling them both down onto the bed, lying side by side in each other's arms. Their lips both still held a trace of coldness from the outside, Sherlock's a little dry and cracked. John gently caressed Sherlock's chest and stomach while they kissed, each movement languid and tender, his hand not travelling down any further. The time for passion would come later, possibly in the morning after a good night's sleep. For now, they would enjoy the gentle caressing of their lips against each other's.

Sherlock had just taken to nibbling John's earlobe lightly when the doorbell went, and the two of them broke apart, Sherlock looking sulky under heavy-lidded eyes at having been interrupted. John, too, would have liked to continue, but he knew that at this moment getting some food into Sherlock was much more important.

"Come on," he said, dragging Sherlock by the hand off the bed. "we'll get back to this later, alright?"

Sherlock smirked mischievously, "We better."

John chuckled, pulling him in for one more gentle kiss.

* * *

Ten minutes later and they were both settled on the couch, curry to hand and a rubbish television show put on just for background noise. John had laboriously filled his plate will every dish they had chosen from the menu, but Sherlock's plate consisted a measly amount of rice and one piece of naan bread. John berated him for it.

"I'm too tired to eat, John!" Sherlock protested, shifting in his seat and causing rice to fall of his plate and into the sofa crease. Mrs Hudson would not be happy.

"Well eat as much as you can, then." John replied, sighing.

Sherlock, in sarcastic manner, put one grain of rice into his mouth. "There!"

John sighed again. He wanted to be angry, he really did, but he had lived with Sherlock long enough to know that when he was tired everything was just that little bit more stressful and irritating. Normal, boring things irritated him at the best of times, but when he wanted to do nothing more than sleep, anything else just made his skin crawl with the tedium.

Deciding on the best course of action, John scooped some of his tikka masala onto his spoon and held it out to Sherlock. "You eat a spoonful, and then I'll eat one, alright? Seem fair?"

Sherlock scowled, but in all honesty he was too tired to protest and so just opened his mouth and took what John gave him. The curry was full of flavour and enjoyable to eat, and eventually, between the two of them they finished off the tikka masala dish. By that time, both of them were too full to eat anything else.

John moved their plates onto the coffee table along with the excess food and they both settles back on the sofa, sinking into the worn cushions and focussing on the television programme whilst not focussing on it at all. It was just something to look at.

Slowly but determinedly Sherlock moved so he laying with this head down John's chest and John's arm around his body. John smirked at the detective's actions: Sherlock always liked to do this after they had eaten and were relaxing on the sofa. He also knew that Sherlock liked it when he ran his fingers through his curls, and so, using his free arm, that's what he did.

"You should take a couple of days off work," John suggested, "this case was very hard on you, your body needs to recuperate."

Sherlock sighed, nuzzling into John's chest, "M'fine, John."

John leaned down and placed a kiss on the Sherlock's crown. "You might think you're fine, Sherlock, but you can't expect your body to always keep up with your mind. I worry about you, you know."

Sherlock didn't reply, and after a while John frowned, peering down. Just past Sherlock's curls he could see the detective's eyes were closed, eyelids drooping over his cheeks, and his breaths were coming in deeply and evenly. John chuckled, squeezing Sherlock's arm before settling down into the sofa himself and closing his eyes, enjoying the surrounding warmth of his and Sherlock's bodies combined, revelling in just holding his partner.

"I really do worry…"

* * *

 **Thank you for reading and please do leave a review!**


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